Chapter 2

Lily's POV

I woke up to the sound of wheels rolling across the floor.

A suitcase.

I cracked open my bedroom door. Down the hallway, Daddy was dragging his luggage toward the stairs. He hadn't changed his clothes from yesterday. His hair was messy, his eyes red.

Mommy stood at the top of the stairs, arms crossed, watching him like a stone statue.

"That's it?" she said. Her voice was flat, empty. "Seven years of marriage, and you're just walking out?"

"You told me to leave, Catherine." Daddy didn't look at her.

"I also told you I loved you. That didn't seem to matter much either."

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, hand on the doorknob. For a second, I thought he might turn around. Might say sorry. Might make everything okay again.

He didn't.

The door closed behind him with a soft click.

Mommy stood there for a long time, not moving. Then she walked to her bedroom without looking at me. I heard her closet door open and close. When she came out, she was wearing all black.

"I'm going to the hospital," she said, not to me, just to the air. "Then I'm bringing Emma home. Don't touch anything while I'm gone."

She walked past my door like I was invisible.

"Mommy, I—"

"I said don't touch anything."

The front door slammed.

I was alone.

I spent the next few hours sitting on my bed, hugging Mr. Flopsy. The house felt too big and too quiet. Every little sound made me jump—the air conditioner clicking on, a car passing outside, the ice maker in the kitchen.

Around four o'clock, I heard the garage door open.

Mommy's car pulled in. I heard two doors close, not one.

Emma was here.

I walked to the top of the stairs and peeked down. Mommy came through the door first, carrying a small pink backpack. Behind her, Emma walked in slowly, holding a framed photo against her chest.

Aunt Sarah.

Emma's eyes were swollen and red. She hadn't changed out of her pajamas—light blue with little stars. Her feet were bare.

"Come on, sweetheart," Mommy said gently, taking Emma's hand. "Let's get you settled in."

Sweetheart.

She used to call me that.

Mommy looked up and saw me on the stairs. Her face hardened instantly.

"Go to your room, Lily."

"I just wanted to say hi to Emma—"

"I said go to your room." Each word came out like ice.

I backed away, but I didn't close my door all the way. Through the crack, I watched Mommy lead Emma down the hallway—straight to my room.

"You can stay in here, honey," Mommy said. "Pick out anything you like. Any toys, any clothes. It's all yours now."

My stomach dropped.

What did she mean, "all yours"?

I heard my closet door open. Emma's small voice said something I couldn't make out.

"That one? Oh, that's beautiful. Perfect choice."

I couldn't stand it anymore. I walked to my doorway.

Mommy was holding my pink ballet dress—the sparkly one from my first recital. The one Daddy gave me. The one I loved more than anything.

"Emma just picked this out," Mommy said, not looking at me. "Take off what you're wearing."

"But that's mine," I whispered.

Mommy's head snapped toward me. "Emma just lost her MOTHER. You still have one. Are you really going to be selfish about a dress?"

Emma stood there, not saying anything. Just watching with those empty eyes.

My hands shook as I pulled off my shirt. Mommy yanked the pink dress over my head and put it on Emma.

It fit perfectly.

"There," Mommy said, smoothing down the fabric. "You look like a little princess."

Emma touched the sparkles. "Thank you, Mommy Catherine."

Mommy Catherine.

The words made my chest hurt.

That night at dinner, I tried to be invisible. Mommy made Emma's favorite—mac and cheese. I got a plain peanut butter sandwich.

I ate slowly, carefully, not wanting to cause any problems. But when I reached for my water glass, my elbow knocked into the orange juice container.

It tipped over.

Juice spread across the table like blood.

"I'm sorry!" I jumped up. "I'll clean it—"

"SIT DOWN."

Mommy's voice was so loud I froze.

"You can't do ONE thing right, can you?" She stood up, chair scraping against the floor. "Not one goddamn thing."

"It was an accident—"

"Everything with you is an accident!" She was screaming now. "Your father leaving was an accident. Sarah dying was an accident. My entire life falling apart is just one big ACCIDENT."

She stormed into the living room. I heard crashing sounds.

When I ran in, she was pulling my ballet trophies off the shelf—all eight of them, from different competitions over the years. She threw the first one on the ground. It shattered.

"Mommy, no—"

"Ballet!" She grabbed another trophy and smashed it. "This is where it all started! If I hadn't destroyed my feet dancing to pay for your father's degree, maybe he would have stayed! If you hadn't wanted lessons, he never would have met that WHORE again!"

She ripped my recital photos off the wall. The glass cracked under her feet.

I dropped to my knees, sobbing. "I'll quit ballet! I promise! Please stop!"

Emma appeared in the doorway. She watched Mommy destroy everything, her face blank. No fear. No sadness. Just... watching.

Mommy grabbed my arm hard. Her scarred fingers dug into my skin.

"Come with me."

"Where—"

"COME WITH ME."

She dragged me through the kitchen. I tried to pull away, but she was too strong. She hauled me into the garage, past Daddy's empty parking space, to the corner where the big chest freezer sat.

My heart started pounding.

"No—Mommy, please—"

She threw open the lid. Cold air rushed out.

"Get in."

"I'm sorry! I'll be good! I'll never make mistakes again—"

"GET. IN."

When I didn't move, she shoved me. I fell backward into the freezer, landing hard on bags of frozen vegetables. My head hit something solid.

"You want to act cold toward me?" Mommy's face appeared above, silhouetted against the garage light. "Fine. Stay cold."

"MOMMY, NO! PLEASE DON'T—"

The lid slammed down.

Everything went black.

Pure, complete darkness.

I screamed and pounded on the inside of the lid. "LET ME OUT! MOMMY! I'M SCARED!"

Her voice came through, muffled. "When you learn to appreciate what you have, I'll consider it."

I heard her footsteps walking away. The garage door closed.

The cold hit me slowly at first, then all at once. My breath came out in white clouds I could barely see. The temperature was so much lower than I expected.

This was supposed to be a punishment, right? She'd come back in a few minutes. She had to.

Time became meaningless in the dark. I couldn't tell if I'd been in there for ten minutes or an hour. My fingers started going numb. My whole body shook violently.

Then I heard voices outside, faint and distant.

"What do you want for dinner, sweetheart?"

That was Mommy. But her voice was soft. Gentle.

"Can I have chocolate milk?" Emma's voice.

"Of course, baby. Anything you want."

Baby. Sweetheart.

She never called me those things anymore.

I curled into a tight ball, trying to keep warm. It wasn't working. The cold was seeping into my bones.

"Mommy," I whispered into the darkness. "Please... I'm so cold..."

Then I heard something new.

Small footsteps.

Getting closer.

The garage door creaked open. Light filtered through a tiny gap where the freezer lid didn't quite seal properly.

A shadow fell across the crack.

Emma's face appeared, looking down at me through the narrow opening.

Relief flooded through me. "Emma! Please—help me—tell Mommy to let me out—"

Emma tilted her head, studying me like I was a bug in a jar.

Then she smiled.

Not a nice smile. Something else.